Chapter 6 Crosshairs #2
“Sounds like my wife.” Dave chuckled. His silvery-blonde hair sported a buzz cut, probably to cover his receding hairline. “How long have you two been dating?”
Tucker’s eyebrows rose. “We aren’t.” Not yet. He hoped with all his heart to change that soon.
“I see.” Dave exchanged a bemused glance with Gil.
Then he sobered. “Back to our current dilemma. We’re coming up with a game plan to hold down the fort tonight.
” He spread his hands to encompass the interior of the barn.
“The storm outside is getting worse. Even without the cartel dogging the transport, it wouldn’t be safe to take the animals back out in it. ”
“That said,” Gil shook his head, “the drug lords were driving ATVs equipped with off-roading tires, so they don’t mind playing in the snow.”
Meaning they would likely be back as soon as they regrouped. The injuries their comrades had sustained might slow them down a bit, but the weather wouldn’t.
Tucker mentally reviewed their current resources.
“What’s cooking on the law enforcement side of things?
” He glanced across the room where Gage and Rock were still huddled in conversation.
“Other than the one uniform we have on site.” He’d sent a few encrypted updates to Agent Pete Flournoy, but his regional manager hadn’t yet responded.
Gil pointed north. “Gotta SWAT team headed here from a bigger city. They’re still an hour away, maybe longer, and that’s if they don’t get stranded in this mess. The nearest two towns said they could spare a deputy apiece. Same story, though. No guarantee when they’ll show.”
Dave nodded gravely. “Until then, we’re on our own.”
“For now,” Gil agreed.
Tucker glanced around the building, assessing the space. Though the stampeding steers had served as a formidable defense tactic the first time around, the drug lords would be better prepared to fend off the animals when they returned. New plan it is.
“We should move the herd.” It was the only thing that made sense to him. They were one big, fat sitting target where they were. All it would take was one firebomb to wipe them out.
“Already working on it.” Dave snapped his fingers and pointed gleefully at him. “I like how you think, Pratt.”
“What do you have in mind?” Tucker had seen one other barn on his drive in, but the weather had rendered visibility too poor to see anything beyond it.
“Conrad Cavender owns more barns and outbuildings than you can shake a stick at.” Dave leaned closer to Tucker, keeping his voice down.
“And the best part about it? He’s a showman at heart.
Because of all the reenactment performances, parades, and historical village tours he hosts, he runs this place like Disney World. ”
Disney World? Hope burgeoned in Tucker’s chest. “You mean…”
“Yep.” Dave grinned. “We’re talking underground passages, employee lounges, and tunnels for moving the animals quickly from one location to another.” He pointed at the floor. “There’s another entire town beneath us, bro.”
Gil took over the conversation, quickly laying out a plan for dividing up their small team and dispersing them throughout the subterranean rooms and tunnels that connected the barns, souvenir shops, restaurants, and other topside venues.
“Unless you say otherwise,” his blue eyes twinkled merrily, “we’ll have you shelter in place with your not-a-girlfriend.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Tucker wasn’t sure she would agree, but he was all for it if she did.
“Done.” Gil tapped a fist on the railing of the pen for emphasis.
Now for the question of the century . Tucker glanced around them. “Any sight of the two punks who rode into town with Mallory and me?” He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them since the showdown with the fake police.
Dave lifted his hat to run a hand over his buzz cut. “Gage saw Cruz hop on one of the ATVs before they took off. No sign of Chip. He might’ve ridden off with the rest of ‘em, or he might be holed up somewhere around here.”
“Color me not surprised.” Tucker intended to keep his eyes peeled.
“Cruz was giving off shifty vibes all the way here. Chip not so much, though going into ghost mode isn’t looking good for him.
” How steeped was he in his parents’ criminal activities?
Or was he merely an innocent kid caught in the crossfire? Only time would tell.
Gil rocked back on his heels. “Now that you’ve spent time with him in close quarters, what more can you tell us about Chip Silva?”
“Well, for one thing, I found out Chip is Dexter Silva’s stepson.
Definitely warrants looking into further.
” Tucker carefully considered what he said next.
It was something that had been nagging at him the entire day.
“Honestly? There’s so much camaraderie between him and Mallory that I’m surprised he swallowed her disguise.
Cruz is new on the job, and Dexter Silva was the one who hired him, so his lack of recognition was more understandable. ”
“Or…” Gil held up a finger, eyes growing cold. “Mallory Evans’ hands might not be as clean as you think. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but…”
Tucker bristled, but he couldn’t think of a single thing that would convince his listeners otherwise. “My gut tells me she’s innocent.” He couldn’t prove it right this second, but he would. Eventually.
Dave gave him a pitying look. “The lawyer in me says your instincts might have been compromised.”
“Because I care for her?” As soon as Tucker spoke, he realized he’d fallen into their trap. Gil and Dave were clever. They’d worked in tandem to maneuver him there.
“Yup.” Dave shook his head sagely. “Once a fella’s feelings are involved, he loses all sense of objectivity.”
“Okay. I’ll play along.” Tucker didn’t like where their conversation was going. “Let’s assume for a second you’re right about her guilt. What’s her motive?”
Dave didn’t hesitate to elaborate. “That’s easy. She’s in over her head. Ranching got a lot harder after her father died. She started losing money and was forced to sell off some land.”
Yep, to me, which you already know. Tucker braced himself for a follow-up accusation. Did they think he was part of it, too?
“Earth to Tucker!” Dave snapped his fingers beneath Tucker’s nose, making him want to break the guy’ s hand.
“I heard you,” he growled. “Mallory suffered a financial setback, sold off some land to regain her sea legs, then woke up one morning and decided it was a fine day to start peddling drugs.” He hoped the two men beside him realized how stupid that sounded.
Dave shrugged, his expression going deadpan. “Sometimes, people do strange things when they’re grieving. She’s already been through a lot, and she stood to lose everything else.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.” Tucker could see the raw logic in the attorney’s argument, but his gut was still solidly in Mallory’s court.
“She told me when Martina and Dexter Silva came along, they felt like gifts from Above. Like family. Another way of looking at it is they saw an opportunity. A target, if you will, and they took advantage of her kindness.”
Gil jumped back in with his ten cents worth. “Why not? Introducing her to narco rustling could prove to be the one thing that kept her from going under.”
“Why not?” Tucker could think of a dozen reasons right off the top of his head. “I’ll tell you why not! She adores her cattle. Insanely adores them. Names them. Hugs them. Spoils them.” Good grief! They could see it with their own eyes with the scene playing out in front of them.
“Right before selling them as beef,” the sheriff reminded gently. “As for all the other stuff?” He folded his arms. “Theatrics designed to throw you off the scent of what’s really going on.”
“This shipment of steers isn’t bound for the freezer.” Tucker couldn’t remember if he’d told Gil and Dave that part yet. He had only known about it for a few hours himself.
“Come again?” Gil’s gaze narrowed at him .
Tucker was all too happy to share what he knew about the discovery. “She sold them to a theatrical troupe. These steers are gonna pull wagons and plows for a live production of some sort. Like Medieval Times, but with a Wild West twist.”
“That certainly puts things in a different light.” The retired sheriff looked thoroughly intrigued. “It’s not what Martina Silva told us.”
“She doesn’t know.” Tucker didn’t realize Gil had interrogated the Silvas.
Knowing him, Martina probably hadn’t even known she was being questioned.
He was that smooth. “Mal handled the transaction herself and kept the details close to her chest. Then she took it a step further and became a stowaway on her own transport. She did it to prove my suspicions were wrong about the Silvas. Granted, things didn’t turn out the way she hoped. ” Far from it.
“If everything you say is true,” Dave mused slowly, “why’d she bring Cruz and Chip along?”
“I don’t know.” Tucker hadn’t figured that out yet. “Maybe she thought they were too young to be involved. Chip is eighteen.” Mallory adored him. She’d made no effort to hide it. “Or she might’ve done it to avoid raising Dexter Silva’s suspicions.”
“Cruz’s involvement makes her look guilty,” Dave pointed out. “I know that, and you know that.”
Unfortunately. But the truth was rarely black-and-white. They both knew that, too. Tucker glanced around the barn again, trying to figure out where an eighteen-year-old might hide if he was still around.
His gaze zeroed in on a shiver of movement in the straw near Mallory. The steer she was coddling had just finished his I.V. fluids. She still had his head in her lap, rubbing his head and patting his neck like he was a house pet .
His insides softened at the sight. There was no way a woman who loved cattle as much as she did would’ve packed them full of drug packages.
The straw beside her left ankle moved again, and a hand popped into the air.